


You must be kind, you must be witty, very sweet, and fairly pretty...

by reve_silencieux



Series: A Time and a Place for Everything [5]
Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reve_silencieux/pseuds/reve_silencieux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a rather annoying trait of Caffrey's—he could blend in anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You must be kind, you must be witty, very sweet, and fairly pretty...

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two years ago as part of my series that started with [An Ocean of Denial](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4437320). I don't know why I didn't post it back then. Oops.

It was a rather annoying trait of Caffrey's, one of many the former conman had that some days made Peter scratch his head in wonder. He could blend in anywhere. It didn't matter where, or who they were meeting with—Neal could put on a smile, say a few words and he was accepted. He could be wearing his fancy clothes or a hoodie and sunglasses and he'd walk through unnoticed—or carefully observed, if that was the desired effect. Neal was a chameleon.

Which was why, when Neal entered the van, Peter had to do a double take. All three of them stopped and stared.

Neal froze and glanced between them. "What?"

Dressed the part for sure, Neal was in all black—turtleneck, leather jacket and pants that made him look like the quintessential cat burglar. But what was so out of place was the little girl sitting on his hip decked out in one of her finest dresses. Never let it be said that Sophia Elizabeth Caffrey did not take after her parents and always looked her best. Today she was wearing a pale green dress with matching headband pushing back her dark curls, frilly white bloomers covering her diaper and matching green patent Mary Janes. Alas, it would be a few years before she moved on from flats.

The clincher, though, was that on his other shoulder Neal had a black leather bag full of whatever he needed for the sting, and a bright purple diaper bag.

Diana pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

Neal cocked his head and gave her a look. "Really?"

She grinned. "Oh, I need proof of this. The diaper bag is great. Best accessory ever." 

Jones snickered and Peter looked at Neal, expectantly. "What happened?"

"If you recall, this _was_ my day off." He shifted Sophie on his hip as he moved further into the van and dumped his bags. "I don't exactly have a babysitter to call last minute when our bad guys move up a meet. June is out of town, Sara has meetings all day with the visiting VPs and Elizabeth has that event in Central Park." 

"What about Mozzie?" Peter asked.

Neal shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Ah," Peter nodded knowingly, and reached for his goddaughter. "Fine then, let me have her."

"What about that backup care program the FBI offers?" Jones piped in, glancing between his monitor and Neal.

"Backup care?"

Peter settled Sophie on his lap and bent over to open the diaper bag, knowing there would be some toys to entertain her. "It's a program the agency offers for moments just like this—child care or elder care—in home or at a center. You should have seen it in your benefits package. You sign up and get so many days a year."

Sitting down, Neal shook his head. "I wasn't exactly paying attention to that when I signed up. Sara was still in London."

"Yes, I'm sure you were just hoping it would all be done for you—oh, wait! You were." Peter grinned at Neal, remembering the grumbling the conman had done when presented with the 'perks' of a real job. The 401k plan had nearly sent him through the roof.

"You should just get a nanny," Diana suggested.

"Oh, sure, let a total stranger into my home _and_ take care of my daughter. I'll pass."

Sophie grabbed at the doll Peter held out for her, nearly smacking him in the face. He ducked and looked over at Neal. "You find an agency where they've run checks on them."

Neal gave him an incredulous look. "How long have you worked white collar? I know for a fact that you can fake a resume and pay off the company doing background checks."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and refrained from commenting. It was better not knowing, some days.

"I'm sure we could run a name or two, couldn't we, Peter?" Jones asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Peter sighed. "That's misuse of federal resources."

"Oh, and you didn't check out everyone associated with me before?"

"That was different."

Neal shot him a pointed look. "We're talking about someone with access to my house, Peter. Who knows what she could find, or do, while in the privacy of my home. She could plant a bug. We do work from my home, if you recall."

"Doesn't Mozzie sweep for bugs?"

"Not the point. Given my background and what I do now, you never know who would want to get back at me. I will not let someone hurt Sophie, Peter."

"Fine, fine!" Peter rubbed his forehead then glared at him. "Narrow it down and we'll check them out."

"Great! Of course, who knows if we'll get one, but it's good to know. Thanks, Peter."

Peter shot his eyes upward and muttered a few choices words silently to himself.

*~*~*~*

"What's this?" Mozzie shook the locked handle to the pantry.

Neal glanced over. "We're baby-proofing the house. Sophie's going to be walking soon." He continued chopping vegetables while Mozzie tried to open the door.

After a couple minutes of unsuccessful attempts, Neal sighed and put down his knife. "I thought you were a genius." He walked over and flicked the latch.

Mozzie grumbled. "I don't like anything coming between me and my wine." He bent down to the wine rack and picked out a Syrah.

"You mean, MY wine, Moz."

" _In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures_ ," Mozzie quoted as he walked over to the drawer for the corkscrew.

"Yes, well, this friendship is about to get less sweet, because we cannot afford your wine habit."

Mozzie stopped and pulled at the drawer, finding another lock. "Oh, good grief! This is going to get old."

Neal looked up and grinned. "Need help?"

"No," he muttered and managed to open it in a few seconds this time.

"I am serious about the wine, though, Moz. We can't afford it. Sara and I are already cutting back." Neal swept the veggies from the cutting board into a French sauté pan on the stove.

Mozzie rolled his eyes and twisted the corkscrew. "You know there's a perfectly good solution to your problems."

"Don't even think about it, Moz."

"It's a small job! No danger whatsoever and Peter will never catch wind of it."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "But Sara will. No, not going to happen."

"What has you so strapped for cash, anyway?" Moz sat down at the table and sipped his wine.

"Ever since that day when I had to take Sophie in the van, Sara and I have discussed getting a nanny."

Mozzie sputtered. "What?! But June loves looking after Sophie."

"I know, don't worry, Moz. We're only thinking about a couple days a week—that and for emergencies. This way June won't get tired of babysitting. She's been extremely gracious about the whole arrangement and I couldn't have asked for anyone better." Neal moved to the fridge and took out some half and half.

"Well, whatever you decide, make sure you pay her cash. You don't want to deal with the tax laws concerning help."

"Excuse me?"

Mozzie raised his glass animatedly. "Say what you want about free speech and free will of our country, but she has the most convoluted tax system. You have to apply to even issue someone a W-2 and then pay her taxes as her employer and don't even get me started on the actual tax rates."

"Do I even want to know how you know about the tax law concerning nannies?"

"It's not just for nannies, but you know me, I'm always prepared."

"Yes, I'm quite aware," Neal replied dryly. "But I also know you don't pay taxes, so what gives?"

Mozzie shrugged. "I looked into it last year. Before we knew June would babysit."

Neal shook his head, smiling. "Thanks, Moz. However, you do realize that, by working for the Federal government, I probably should _not_ give them any reason to fire me for evading taxes."

"Tell me you didn't consider it when you had to fill them out the first time."

"Ok, maybe. But now that Sara and I fill out a joint form, I think it's best not to give the IRS any reason to audit us. I don't want them digging around asking about _anything_ that might concern my past."

Mozzie waved his hand. "Pfftt... The statute of limitations is up for most of what you did. You were a ward of the state for eight years alone. I think you're allowed a break."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Moz, but we'll get help if we need it. Peter could probably figure it out." He pulled out a spoon and tasted the sauce. He paused, then walked towards the pantry. "But we still have to find a nanny to begin with—someone we can trust."

"Mary Poppins would be good."

"I'll get right on that."

**Author's Note:**

> The tax business is real, although I don't know the logistics. One of my coworkers once complained about it and I had to include it. Plus I figured Moz would have a field day with it.
> 
> The title is from Mary Poppins.


End file.
